Rosslyn
by SweetKnees
Summary: A series about how Jed and Abbey deal with the aftermath of the Rosslyn shooting. A good deal of Josh and Charlie, too. Zoey, Mrs. Landingham, Millie, and Donna make appearances.
1. Chapter 1

"Rosslyn"

Author's Note: I wanted a little more interaction between Jed and Abbey after he got shot, so here are conversations I imagine them having in the hospital and the subsequent weeks. Please enjoy and review!

 **Chapter** **1**

"Baby? Jed?" Abbey ran her fingers through Jed's hair, wanting him to open his eyes. All she wanted was to see her husband before he went into surgery.

His eyes fluttered open."It's okay, Sweetheart. I'm fine," the President said, taking his wife's hand and holding it to his heart. "It's a through and through." He looked so pale under the hospital's fluorescent lights, but his voice sounded strong.

"I talked to the anesthesiologist."

"Okay," Jed said simply, knowing that Abbey meant she'd told the anesthesiologist about his MS.

"Dr. Bartlet, we have to take him into surgery now," Dr. Keller called from a few feet away.

Abbey nodded and turned back to Jed. "I love you." She knew he was going to be okay, but she couldn't help her trembling lip.

"I love you too, Abbey."

She gave him a kiss and squeezed his hand. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"All right, honey." He watched her walk toward the door. "I love you!" He couldn't help saying it again.

—

"Your stitches look good," Abbey said, pulling down Jed's hospital gown.

Jed was too groggy to do anything but nod.

"I called Ellie and Liz. I told them that you're going to be fine, so they don't have to visit. Of course they both insisted anyway. They should be here in the next few hours. Zoey doesn't have class until next week, so she's camped out in the lobby with your staff." Abbey knew she was babbling, but her nerves were shot. Logically, she knew her husband was fine. But the shock of him being shot was still tearing her up inside. She always knew she might lose him to MS. But she never imagined that anyone would shoot him, even if he was the President of the United States.

She turned when she heard the door open. "Dr. Keller, good to see you."

"How are you feeling, sir?" the doctor asked.

"This morphine drip is quite nice," the President said tiredly. His eyes were half-closed, and he barely listened as Dr. Keller spoke with Abbey over in the corner. They were talking in low voices about something. Jed didn't much care what the subject was. He thought he saw his wife put a hand over her mouth, but he wasn't sure. He just wanted to drift off to sleep again.

"You'll be in some discomfort for a few weeks, as the incision heals," Dr, Keller said, as he came over and checked Jed's levels on the IV machine.

Jed nodded sleepily.

"This is important now. You can't exert yourself at all physically. So that means no lifting, no strenuous exercise. And no sex."

This got Jed's attention. His eyes jolted open. "What?! For how long?"

"Probably three months at least."

"Three months?!" The President couldn't imagine going that long without being with Abbey. It was bad enough that he'd been shot. But now he couldn't be intimate with his wife for three months.

"Jed, you've had major surgery. What did you expect?" Abbey said, sitting down on the bed.

"I guess I didn't really think about that part," Jed admitted unhappily.

"You'll be back to normal in no time, Mr. President," the doctor told him. "There's something else, though, that we need to tell you."

"Could it be worse than not being able to sleep with my wife for three months?" Jed grumbled.

Abbey took Jed's hand, knowing this news would devastate him. "Jed, please," she said in a tone that let him know what he was about to hear was serious.

Dr. Keller cleared his throat. "Josh Lyman was also shot, sir.

"Oh, God. Where was he hit? Is he okay?" Jed asked frantically.

"It's serious. The bullet collapsed his lung. The surgeons are doing everything they can."

 **To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"This isn't your fault, you know," Abbey said, replacing the pillow she'd just fluffed. "I won't let you blame yourself for Josh being shot."

Jed was ready to argue with his wife, but then he saw the worn look on her face. Sometimes he forgot how much she worried about him. The hell of what she had been through the last twelve hours hit him. He reached out and took her hand. "Okay." Abbey broke away and started to fuss with his IV machine. She felt like if she didn't stay busy, she'd fall apart. She was so concerned with Jed and his recovery, she didn't want anything to impede it, including her own emotions. It tore her up that Jed might be blaming himself for Josh's situation.

"Hey," he said gently. "Come here." He tugged on her arm to get her to sit down next to him on his bed.

"Lie down next to me. I want to hold you." He could tell Abbey was about to fall apart.

Abbey complied, careful to arrange herself on the side where Jed wasn't wounded. She laid her head on his chest and began to sob. The hours of stress had finally taken their toll on her. She couldn't contain her emotions any longer.

"Shh, it's okay, Abbey," Jed whispered into her hair. He patted her back rhythmically and let her cry herself to sleep.

—-

Later, Abbey was awakened by Jed muttering loudly at the television. "Do they just take any person off the street to be on Jeopardy these days?!" He looked slightly startled when he saw Abbey stirring.

"I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to wake you," he said.

"It's okay. How are you feeling?" Abbey asked, sitting up.

"Ready to get out of this damn place. I hate hospitals. How did you stand working in one of these?"

Abbey rubbed her eyes, trying to think of a witty retort. "The other doctors constantly ogling my ass certainly helped."

"I wouldn't blame them. Hey, Lizzie and Ellie came while you were asleep. They're down in the cafeteria now getting some coffee."

"Isn't that the first thing you should have said when I woke up?"

"Hey, you're the one who tried antagonizing a gunshot victim with talk of other men lusting after you. Notice also, how I deftly ignored your goading."

Abbey chuckled. They loved flirting and teasing one another, especially to lighten the mood. "Just trying to test how well you'll make it the next three months." The doctor had told Jed earlier that it would be a few months before Jed and Abbey could have sex again.

"Don't remind me," Jed groaned.

"Remind you of what?" Lizzie asked, entering the room with Ellie.

"Nothing. Your mother's just trying to provoke me, as usual," Jed said, winking at his daughters. They rolled their eyes as his corniness.

"Are you comfortable, Daddy?" Ellie asked. As a future doctor herself, she wanted to make sure that her father was completely pain-free. Ellie was very sensitive at heart, and though she and her dad didn't always see eye to eye, she loved him very much. And she was terrified that the remaining shooter would come back to finish the job.

"Yes, sweet pea. I promise. They have me on plenty of pain medication."

"And are they upping your security? I only saw two guards outside your room."

Jed and Abbey looked at each other. "Dad wasn't the target," Abbey said softly. "They were after Charlie."

Liz and Ellie both looked shocked. "Does he know? Does Zoey know?" Liz asked.

"Yeah," her father replied sadly. Charlie was like a son to Jed. And Jed felt like it was his fault, that he hadn't protected Charlie enough. He'd been so focused on Zoey that he'd neglected to protect Charlie.

"I should go talk to Zo," Ellie said. "Can I get you anything before I go?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you, El."

Ellie exited to go find her younger sister.

"Do you think it's safe to have Charlie be your personal aide anymore?" Liz questioned.

This infuriated Jed. "Charlie Young is the most loyal, hardest working, smartest staffer I could ask for. He is like my son, and there is no way on God's green Earth that I am going to get rid of him. Those bigots can stuff it. Do you understand me?" He was practically shaking with anger.

"Okay, Dad. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry," Liz said. She hadn't realized how much Charlie meant to her dad. Elizabeth had only met Charlie once herself. She patted her pregnant stomach. Maybe now was a good time to share some happy news with her dad.

"Hey," she said. "I have some news for you and Mom."

"What? Is everything okay with the baby?"Jed asked, now regretting that he'd been so harsh with his eldest daughter.

"Everything is great. We're having a boy!"

Jed and Abbey beamed at each other. "That's wonderful, Lizzie Bee. We're so happy for you and Doug," Abbey said for both of them. Jed was too overcome with emotion to reply immediately. He loved his daughters more than life itself, and truthfully he'd always been scared to have a son. But there'd always been a part of him that wanted to experience having a boy in the family.

This was some much needed good news at a time when Jed felt like God was testing him.

 **To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Jed was home from the hospital now, much to his relief. Ellie and Liz had already left with the assurance that Jed would call them at least once a day with updates on his condition. They felt pretty confident leaving him, knowing that Abbey wouldn't let him out of her sight. Zoey had decided to stick around a few more days, so he had two women worrying over his every move. As annoying as it could be to be fussed over, Jed knew enough to be grateful that he had such a loving wife and daughters. And if that weren't enough, Liz had snuck him a box of New Hampshire maple candy that he planned on devouring the first moment Abbey turned her back.

The discussion over this morning's breakfast table was acalculia. Jed had been so bored while he was in the hospital that he had ended up reading one of Abbey's medical journals. The journal turned out to have quite an interesting article about the neurological disorder known as acalculia. Being who he was —somewhat of a show-off when it came to trivia— Jed had been anticipating the right time to share his knowledge with Abbey and Zoey.

Jed waited impatiently for a lull in Abbey and Zoey's conversation about an upcoming event at Georgetown to dazzle them with his interesting fact.

"Do you two know what acalculia is?" he asked, putting down his spoon of oatmeal. Abbey had decided to take his assassination attempt as an opportunity to make him start eating better. Jed figured he'd amuse her for a week, all the while sneaking maple candy when she wasn't looking.

"The inability to perform arithmetic functions," Abbey replied.

Jed glared at her.

"Sorry, hon, did I steal your moment to impress us with your vast array of knowledge? You do realize I was the one who brought the journal to the hospital?" Abbey loved to take her husband down a peg or two just to annoy him. But all in good fun.

Jed ignored his wife and addressed Zoey. "Zoey Patricia, did _you_ know what acalculia was?"

"I do now! Tell me, Dad, what other things do you know?" Zoey grinned facetiously.

"I detect that you're mocking me, but I am unfazed." Jed took a gulp of orange juice before continuing. Abbey and Zoey gave each other a 'here he goes again' look. "Acalculia is caused by trauma to the brain, usually a stroke or brain tumor."

"Not to be confused with dyscalculia, which is a developmental disorder," Abbey added.

"Well this is just riveting," Zoey said dryly, "But I need to get going to class."

With that, Zoey kissed both her parents goodbye and headed out the door.

Abbey ran a finger absent-mindedly around the rim of her coffee mug, as she watched their daughter leave. "I'm worried about Zoey and Charlie."

Jed let out a weary puff of air. "Me too."

"Has he spoken at all to you?"

"He barely speaks to me these days," Jed said, not bothering to hide from Abbey how much it hurt him.

"Jed, he has no one to talk to. If he won't talk to you—- and I'm pretty sure he's not talking to Zoey about it—maybe you can prompt Mrs. Landingham to talk to him."

"I don't want to meddle, but I think you're right."

"Has any of your staff seen a psychologist? Often after traumatic events, companies will bring in someone to talk to people," Abbey explained.

"We're the government. We don't do that," Jed tried feebly to joke.

"I'm serious, Jed. Josh especially needs to see someone."

"I'll bring it up, but I doubt anyone will want to."

"At the very least, you need to talk to Zoey. I've talked to her, but she's always belonged to you."

"I hate when you say that. She loves you so much, Abbey."

"I know. She's just more like you than me. It's okay. There's plenty she discusses with me that she'd never dream of talking to you about. But this is something where she needs your input."

"All right."

"You need to talk to her about whether she's even comfortable still dating Charlie. And if she is, then is she comfortable with the risks of…" Abbey trailed off when she saw Zoey coming in.

"The risks of what?" She'd left her Introduction to Psychology textbook in the kitchen and had returned to find her parents discussing her relationship with Charlie.

Jed and Abbey looked hesitantly at each other. At last Abbey spoke, knowing Jed didn't have the heart to bring up this painful topic. "Baby, we're worried about you and Charlie. We don't want you to have to go through this."

"Go through what?" Zoey asked defensively.

"Josh and I were shot because you and Charlie are together."

"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think we both feel incredibly guilty?" Zoey said angrily.

"Dad's not saying you should feel guilty. No one blames you or Charlie."

"Then what are you saying? That I should dump him because racists don't like us being together?"

"No, but what we are saying is that you have to ask yourself if the relationship is worth the backlash."

"I can't believe you two are saying this. You're the ones who always told me to stand up for what I believe."

"It's different when it's your child," Jed said solemnly. It was true that he and Abbey had always stood up for their principles, fought for the underdog. And they wanted their children to do the same but not at the risk of their safety.

"I love him! You and Mom have one of the greatest love stories I've ever heard, and you're expecting me to give up someone I love?"

Jed had had no idea that Zoey and Charlie's relationship was this serious. "Of course not, peach patch," he said quietly. "We just want to make sure you're prepared. Mom and I will do everything we can to protect both of you. Now cheer up and get to class," he said, playfully pushing her toward the door.

As Zoey left, Jed turned and placed a soulful kiss on Abbey's head. They both so badly wanted to protect their baby girl from all the hatred and heartache of the world. But they couldn't.

"I better get down to work," Jed said.

Abbey nodded. "Tell them your captivating story about acalculia."

"Abigail, no matter how much you try to denigrate me and my intelligence, I am undeterred in my love for you."

"I love you too, jackass. And don't think I don't know about the maple candy."

 **To Be Continued...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Are you _trying_ to kill me?" Jed griped, as he watched Abbey undress and get ready for bed. "The last people who tried to do that ended up dead or in jail, you know."

"Whoa. What's with the crankiness?" Abbey asked, turning to look at Jed.

"Well, do you have to change your clothes so sexily right in front of me?"

"I wasn't trying to be sexy," Abbey defended.

"Well, you're naturally sexy!" Jed said exasperatedly, kicking a shoe under the bed. "You parade right in front of me with your tantalizing breasts out in full view. You pull your stockings down so slowly and seductively, so I see every inch of your incredible legs. And yet I can't jump you!"

Abbey threw on her pajama shirt and came over to Jed. "Honey, this isn't any easier on me than on you. I miss being with you, too. But complaining and fighting isn't going to ease the tension. Not to mention that it wouldn't make me want to sleep with you anyway."

"Do you enjoy kicking a man when he's down?" quipped Jed.

Abbey could see that Jed was still itching for a fight to relieve all his built up tension. She wasn't about to feed into it. Instead, Abbey decided to address what was really bothering him. "Jed, I know you're having a rough time. Rausch is doing well. The annoying campaign calls. No sex."

"Is there a point to this?" Jed snapped. If she was trying to calm him down, it wasn't working so far.

Abbey continued to ignore Jed's snark. "I'm saying that I commiserate, but you're going to have to find a way to move past it. Besides, the sex embargo won't last forever; September just ended, so we only have six weeks left. And if you behave, I promise to make our reunion very special."

"How special?" Jed asked, softening a bit.

Abbey desperately wanted to touch him and get him excited for things to come. But she knew that would be cruel. "Believe me is all I will say," she said, winking at him.

Jed also knew that continuing down this flirtatious path would only increase the sexual tension, so he switched gears. "Zoey tried to talk to me today about Charlie. I shut her down. I was mad about Rausch's polling numbers, and I didn't want to hear about her relationship problems."

"And now you feel bad?" Abbey asked, getting into bed. She propped her head up on her hand, inviting Jed to come get into bed, too.

Jed slid into their bed and lay on his back. "Yeah."

Abbey waited for Jed to say more.

Jed turned onto his side toward Abbey. "I don't know what to say to her. Aside from the fact that a father talking to his daughter about her relationship with her boyfriend is awkward, I feel…" he paused, not comfortable with the word he was about to say. "Guilty." Guilt was not a feeling that Jed liked, especially when it came to his daughters. He didn't like to think that he had caused Zoey pain.

"You can't fix their relationship. That's up to them." Jed nodded, and Abbey continued. "You need to reach out to Charlie, and tell him you don't blame him, that this isn't his fault."

Jed kissed Abbey's forehead. "I will. I promise." And he meant it.

—

Like many men of his generation, Jed was not comfortable with heart-to-heart conversations. But his love for Charlie overrode any feelings of uneasiness. He had to do this. He pressed the button on his intercom. "Yes, Mr. President?" He heard Charlie's soft, easy voice on the other end of the speaker.

"Can you come in here, please?"

Thirty seconds later, Charlie walked in. "Sir?"

"Have a seat, Charlie," the president said, motioning for Charlie to come sit on the couch. The young man took a seat, uneasily shifting his weight on the patterned cushion. He was in the Oval Office all the time, but Charlie rarely sat in this important room. It was much more imposing somehow, being in the Oval in a seated position. Charlie was terrified that the president was going to reprimand him for snapping at him the other day. All of Charlie's pent up frustration and guilt caused him to lash out at the president for his ridiculous need to make campaign calls from the residence rather than his office. It made no difference. The president would still be on government property even if he called people from the White House residence. Charlie had always spoken to the president with the utmost respect, and he was deeply ashamed that he had crossed that line. He wasn't even angry with the president. Charlie was mad at himself. Mad that his being black and dating Zoey had caused Josh and Bartlet's injuries. Mad that his relationship with Zoey had to be so complicated. Mad most of all that he kept hurting the people he loved. First, he'd asked his mom to change her shift, causing her to get shot. Then, he had pursued a relationship with Zoey, angrily dismissing the need for caution, resulting in the shooting of his boss and colleague.

"Charles Young…" the president began.

"Sir, if I may, I spoke out of turn the other night. It was uncalled for and will never happen again," Charlie said, cutting off the president.

"I forgive you, and I forgive you for just interrupting me," the president said sternly. But Charlie could see the twinkle in Jed's eye. "I think you know how I feel about you," the president continued. Charlie looked down sheepishly at his shoes. He loved the president very much and was gratified to know that the president felt the same way about him. "You had nothing to do with my being shot nor Josh's being shot. I suspect this probably brings back a lot of painful memories and guilt for you surrounding your mother's death. I say to you as the most powerful person in this country that none of these things is your fault. And if I am saying it, it must be true." Jed said this with some levity to lighten the mood, but Charlie could feel the deep sentiment behind it. "I'll have no more of you blaming yourself for any of this, do you hear me?" the president asked his aide.

"Yes, sir," Charlie said softly.

"You can't control what ignorant white supremacists do anymore than you could have prevented some maniac from shooting your mother, just because you asked her to change her shift."

Charlie felt the lump in his throat growing larger. It meant a lot to him for the president to say this. Charlie had carried the guilt of his mother's death for over a year.

"You need to talk to someone, Charlie. If you don't think Zoey or I will understand, find someone who does. Promise me you will."

"I will, sir."

"Go on, get outta here," the president said, in a kidding tone. He smiled as Charlie left the Oval Office. He was glad that Abbey had made him talk to Charlie. Jed just hoped that Charlie and Zoey's relationship would get back on track. As much as he hated his daughter growing up and dating men, Jed liked the idea of Zoey dating Charlie. Charlie was honest, hard-working, caring, and respectful. Any father's dream.

 **To Be Continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The president's words echoed in Charlie's head, the heaviness of the words distracting him from his work. "You need to talk to someone, Charlie." The young aide stopped typing on his computer and stared blankly at the screen. Charlie wasn't sure what to say, even if he could find someone to talk to. He couldn't talk to Josh or the president because he felt guilty. He couldn't talk to Zoey because she didn't understand what it was like. She had never lost anyone close to her. He had wanted to ask Mrs. Landingham, but he kept chickening out because they'd never talked about anything that personal, and he didn't want to upset her by bringing up her deceased sons.

Across the small office, Mrs. Landingham observed the president's personal aide. His face displayed all the sadness and anger Charlie felt in his heart, a downturned mouth and a permanent frown his default expression of late. Normally, he would banter back and forth with Mrs. Landingham as they went about their work. She would fret over whether he was getting enough sleep with having a very demanding full-time job and going to school. In return, he'd gently tease her, with all due respect, that he'd been able to put himself to bed at an appropriate hour since he was eight years old. She'd tell him to mind his elders, but give him a knowing wink as she said it. Or they'd compare notes on a good place to get fried chicken or discuss the sometimes crazy, sometimes heartfelt letters the president received. (The Secret Service already cleared all the letters that made their way to the outer Oval Office, so the crazy letters Mrs. Landingham and Charlie read were from your run-of the-mill harmless eccentrics.) Lately, though, Charlie only spoke to her when he was asking her where a file was or telling her that he was going to run an errand for the president. He wasn't being intentionally rude or purposely avoiding her company; he was just too consumed with his own despair and frustration to be able to engage with anyone on a meaningful level. Mrs. Landingham was very worried about him and had almost spoken up several times, but always stopped herself, sensing that Charlie would confide in her if and when he was ready.

Charlie took a deep breath, pushing his chair back from his desk. This was the only way to get the president's voice out of his head. And if he were being truly honest with himself, he really needed someone to talk to. "Mrs. Landingham?" he asked.

"Yes, Charlie?" the elder woman said, putting down her pen and peering over her glasses.

"Were you angry at yourself after Simon and Andrew died?" He looked at her timidly, hoping he wouldn't open a wound.

Mrs. Landingham took off her glasses and thought for a moment."Yes. I thought I should have done more to prevent them from going to Nam."

"But," she added, "I think I blamed myself because telling myself I had any control whatsoever over what happened to them made me feel like the world isn't random and cruel."

Charlie nodded, relating very much to Mrs. Landingham's need to blame herself. "How did you stop blaming yourself?"

"Well, I realized that above all, Simon and Andrew wouldn't have wanted me to spend the rest of my life blaming myself."

Charlie looked hesitant to let go of his guilt. He felt like relieving himself of the guilt meant that he didn't care anymore.

"Come on, Charlie, let's go to lunch. My treat," Mrs. Landingham said, grabbing her purse from under her desk.

"Doesn't the president need one of us to stay?"

"He's a big boy. He'll survive. But let me just pop in the Oval for a minute and tell him where we're going."

Mrs. Landingham left Charlie out in the outer Oval. "Mr. President?"

"Yes?" the president asked. He was midway through a summary of the current polling numbers for the midterms.

"I'm taking Charlie to lunch, if that's okay."

The president looked at his beloved executive assistant with gratitude. It made sense. She of all people could understand what Charlie was going through and would be able to help him. "Of course. Take all the time you need. Nancy and the other secretaries can cover until you get back."

"Very well, sir."

"Thank you, Delores," Jed said, using the secretary's given name. Out of respect, he usually called her by her last name, but this moment seemed too personal for that.

She gave him a smile and then left the office.

—-

Louise's Diner was just a few blocks from the White House, but because it was on a side street, it didn't get heavy traffic. Most of the patrons were loyal customers, who appreciated the diner as a place of refuge from the constant motion of Washington, D.C. Mrs. Landingham often came here for a late supper after she left the White House. The waiters knew her well enough to know how she liked her coffee and could sense when she wanted light conversation and when she preferred to do her crossword without interruption. Taking Charlie here didn't seem like an invasion of her privacy, though. Like her, he came from humble beginnings and wouldn't have a problem with the faded plastic seats or the decor that hadn't been updated in thirty years or more. The menu hadn't been updated in that long, either. Mrs. Landingham liked that nothing changed here, that everything was simple.

Mrs. Landingham had made life very simple for herself since her husband died. She worked, she went to church, she volunteered once a month at the homeless shelter in Southeast DC, and she played bridge every other weekend with a few other widows from church. She didn't have much need for anything else. She liked her routine, and she liked keeping her private life to herself. But around Charlie, she felt at ease.

"What are you going to have, Charlie? Are you eating enough vegetables?"

Charlie had to laugh. "Yes, ma'am. Unlike the president, I don't have a complete aversion to roughage."

"Well, just so you're mindful of it. Now, I think I am going to have a cheeseburger," she said, giving the menu one last glance before putting it down.

Charlie gave her a questioning look.

"I'm old. I'm allowed to indulge once in a while."

—

As the two sat eating their lunches, Mrs. Landingham paused her eating for a moment to remark, "You know what ultimately got me through it? Helping other people and having purpose."

A funny thing happens when we are riddled with guilt and anger. We become very self-absorbed. We're so angry at ourselves that we forget other people are suffering. Mrs. Landingham's simple yet wise advice smacked Charlie with reality. The best way he could honor his mother, the best way he could repent to Josh and the President was to keep showing up to serve his country.

"Thank you," he told her. How grateful he was to have her in his life.

"You're a good young man, Charlie."

With her simple words of wisdom, Mrs. Landingham had helped Charlie start inching his way out of the dark hole into which he had dug himself. He wasn't totally unburdened yet, but he felt it lightening.

 **To Be Continued...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 _Author's Note: Sorry it's been a bit since I've updated. Please review and enjoy!_

"Do you have any idea how I felt when I heard you had been shot?" Abbey asked, getting up from the bathtub ledge, where she and Jed had both been perched. Not that her height could ever be considered imposing, but she wanted her full five feet three inches towering over her husband as she said this: "You know when you were little and would skin your knee? And it felt like all your nerves were exposed, like they were practically screaming? And you would try to suck in air through your teeth to lessen the pain, even though you knew it would do nothing? That stinging pain mixed with sheer panic because you knew there was no relief? _That's_ what it felt like when I heard you'd been shot!"

Jed looked at Abbey with regret spread across his face. He wished he hadn't snapped at her for trying to help him clean his stitches. He cast his eyes down at the blood-specked gauze in his hands as Abbey let him have it. His naked chest sunk inward, and his usually broad shoulders collapsed. Sitting there in just his pants and no shirt made him feel incredibly vulnerable, as if more fabric on his skin could protect him from Abbey's words.

"When the Secret Service came to tell me, I was folding your socks." That evening when Cora, the house manager, had come in to fold and put away the laundry, Abbey had asked her to leave it. As First Lady, she rarely had time to do it, but the rote motion of folding laundry had a way of relaxing Abbey's mind. "Agent O'Neil didn't even knock. He just came in and said, 'Ma'am, you need to come with us. The president has been shot.' Nothing to soften the blow. Then he and the other agents rushed me out the door, not giving me any time to process it."

Abbey grabbed the used gauze from Jed and threw it in the trash. She didn't want him to have an excuse not to look at her when she said this. "I don't usually collapse physically or emotionally when I hear about emergencies, as you know; I go into doctor mode. Get the facts, supervise treatment. The only way I knew how to do that in that moment was to clutch even tighter to that pair of navy blue argyle socks you love so much. You know, the ones I bought you in Ireland. I stuffed them in my blazer pocket and held onto them the whole car ride to the hospital. So yeah, I'm going to hover over you until you're entirely healed. And there's not a damn thing you can do about it."

Hearing that Abbey was hurting stung more than any of the times Jed's father had smacked him across the face. Telling her what was really bothering him was like that moment of dread on a roller coaster as you go plunging down the hill—-total terror. But, he couldn't stand that he'd hurt her, so he blurted out the truth, hoping Abbey would forgive him. "Abbey, President Nmbala was executed at the airport. I couldn't save his country from AIDS. I couldn't even save him," Jed explained. He sat with his hands braced against the tub, looking out the bathroom window. Even after all these years, Jed still worried that if he confessed his feelings, Abbey would see him as weak. It made no sense to worry that Abbey would think less of him, but Jed couldn't seem to help it.

Now it was becoming clear to Abbey why Jed was behaving like a horse's ass. "Come here," she said, prompting Jed to stand up. She wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry."

He had always felt that helplessness was a sign of weakness; this was no doubt a holdover from his abusive childhood. He truly didn't mean to snap at Abbey. But her not letting him even clean his stitches himself made clear that Jed had no control over any aspect of his life let alone the world right now.

"It's funny how with great power, you can still feel totally helpless," Abbey mused. She knew how much Jed hated feeling like there was nothing he could do to better a bad situation.

Jed let out a weary laugh. "You want to help me put on a clean bandage? I like it when you take care of me." He said this as a way of saying sorry. He did love it when Abbey took care of him.

"What are you going to do about Equatorial Kundu?" Abbey asked as she prepared a fresh piece of gauze.

"Troops, aid. The usual. Of course none of that solves the problem of the AIDS epidemic."

"There's a study in Britain right now. They're trying to come up with an HIV drug that doesn't require knowing how to tell time. We _will_ cure AIDS eventually," Abbey said, handing Jed his shirt.

"Yeah.

Abbey helped Jed fix his tie, looking straight into his ocean blue orbs. "Jed, I've never, ever thought you were weak. Never."

His heart somersaulted hearing those words. "I know," Jed said, placing a gentle kiss on Abbey's lips.

 **To Be Continued...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Charlie!" the President called in his charming New Hampshire accent. There was something comforting about the way the President said his name. Chah-lee. The "R" practically disappeared, creating a smooth, pleasing sound. And now that their relationship was getting back to normal, Charlie didn't cringe every time he heard his name. (The Oval Office door happened to be open a crack at the moment, but the President's voice was loud enough that Charlie could often hear it through the door!)

The Oval Office door opened wider, and the young aide appeared. "Yes, sir?"

"Have Josh come in here a minute, please."

Charlie nodded and went off to find Josh.

He found Josh at his desk playing with a Slinky, singing the commercial jingle, "Alone or in pairs, everyone knows it's Slinky." Josh started when Charlie came in, and he dropped the Slinky on the floor.

"Ow," he said as he bent down to get the spiral toy. The stitches on his torso were still healing, and it hurt to bend over.

"Here, man, let me get it for you," Charlie said, coming over and scooping up the metal coil.

"Thanks," Josh said, unbending slowly.

Charlie felt incredibly awkward suddenly. Guilt blanketed his brain, and he wanted nothing more than to escape. He stood there frozen for a moment.

"Did you need something?" Josh asked, looking at Charlie quizzically.

"Ah. Yeah. The President would like to see you."

"Oh, okay. Weird that he didn't just call Donna."

It did seem weird, Charlie thought.

Josh was picking up on how uncomfortable Charlie was. It was becoming clear why the President had made Charlie come over to summon Josh in person.

"Hold on a sec, Charlie. I'm just going to have Donna call the President and tell him I'll be a minute." Just this once, Josh figured it was okay to make the President wait.

Josh poked his head out to talk to Donna, while Charlie continued to stand there awkwardly. He had a feeling Josh wanted to have a heart-to-heart, and that was the last thing Charlie wanted.

"Okay, it's done. Have a seat, Charlie," Josh said, closing his office door behind him.

"All right," Charlie said uneasily.

"Look, I'm no good at this stuff, but I just want you to know that I don't blame you. Nobody does. In fact, we're all worried about you." The shooters had been after Charlie, but their poor aim had missed him and hit the President and Josh. The guilt had been eating at Charlie for months.

"I appreciate it," Charlie said after a long silence.

"I'm a white guy from Connecticut, so I have no idea what you're going through. Though I am Jewish," Josh joked. God, he was terrible at this, he thought. Josh empathized with Charlie, but he didn't know how it felt to be a consistent target of racism because of the color of his skin. He'd experienced anti-Semitism a few times in his life, but no one had ever tried to kill him because of it, fortunately.

This made Charlie smile. "Our people have both struggled, for sure."

"So we're good, right?" Josh looked at Charlie with almost a pleading in his eyes. With his sister and his dad gone, and having never been particularly popular, Josh valued his White House family a lot.

"Yeah," Charlie smiled genuinely. "We're good."

—-

"You talked to Charlie?"

"I did, sir. Thank you for making us talk."

"I'm like Oprah. I bring the people together to share their feelings," the President kidded.

President Bartlet settled down on the couch, inviting Josh to take a seat, too.

"Should we compare scars or something?" Starting off with a joke might make Josh feel more at ease about what the President was about to say.

"Sir, with all due respect, I think mine would beat yours."

"Yeah. How ya feeling?" President Bartlet asked, his tone turning serious.

"Great. I feel great."

"Joshua," the President said in a warning tone.

"Really, sir. I'm fine."

"I want you to come to me or to Leo if there's a problem. You've been through something terrible, and there's no shame in having difficulty dealing with it. It just means you're human, Josh." Bartlet looked Josh squarely in the eye so that the freckle-faced, brown eyed staffer knew the President meant business.

"Yes, sir," Josh said, the muscles in his throat tightening. The President was more than a boss. He was a second father. This offering of help was almost more than Josh could tolerate emotionally.

"We want you here, and we value you. But your first duty is to yourself, not to me or this White House or this country. Capeesh?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. President."

Josh walked out of the Oval Office feeling anxious. Was it noticeable? Were the President and Leo talking about him being unfit to serve? Being at work was the only thing keeping Josh from going crazy because it was a distraction. But, at the same time, work was going to give him a heart attack. Every time there was a loud noise, Josh was right back on the the concrete holding his chest, hoping someone would rescue him. He remembered feeling scared and alone, even though people were everywhere screaming and crying. As the blood had seeped from his body like a leaking hose, Josh had felt like the world was slowing down. Donna kept popping into his head. He had seen her goofy grin, her flaxen hair tucked behind her ears. And then images of his sister had floated by. He had seen Joanie in the kitchen pouring an excessive amount of butter on the popcorn. He had seen her running through the sprinkler in their backyard, jumping off the porch, riding her bike without holding the handle bars. She was fearless. She'd always look behind her to make sure Josh was there, grinning at him all the while, reassuring him that she'd be fine. Joanie loved to impress her baby brother and to show him how fun life could be.

Toby had shaken Josh out of his daydream, yelling his name, telling him to hang on. He had cradled Josh in his arms, repeating over and over that it was going to be okay. Josh had wanted so badly to ask Toby if the President had been shot, but he couldn't get the words out.

The White House was an active place, and there were noises of all kinds. Each loud noise felt like another bullet to his chest. Josh would gasp for breath, then look around to make sure Donna hadn't seen him jump out of his chair. Reminding himself that the White House was a fortress with bullet-proof windows and armed guards helped him calm down a little.

And now he was worried that the President was on to his act, that the President knew Josh wasn't really coping that well.

 **—** **-**

"You've been awfully…tense… lately. How's the sex moratorium going?"

Abbey glared at her best friend of more than thirty years. "Not. Well," she told Millie through gritted teeth. She wondered why she'd invited Millie over to her East Wing office when it seemed like all the Surgeon General wanted to do was tease Abbey.

Millie tried to hide her grin behind her coffee cup, but Abbey wasn't fooled when Millie said, "That must be hard."

"Stop it! It's not funny."

"No, but your reaction is. I've never seen you this tense."

"You know I could summon the National Guard."

"First Ladies don't have that power."

"I'll make Jed do it. Just watch."

"I don't doubt that you'd try."

Abbey sighed. She was so tired of going without sex. She started to tell Millie about this morning. How she and Jed had been doing their best to keep busy, but it was getting hard to be around each other. Today at breakfast, when he'd accidentally brushed his hand against hers when reaching for the coffee creamer, she'd felt an overpowering moisture between her legs. When she'd quickly drawn her hand back, Jed had asked what was wrong. "You can't even lightly touch me without me getting all… you know."

"Really?" Jed had straightened in his chair, feeling quite proud of himself.

"Don't let it get to your head, cowboy," she had said.

And then there'd been the time a few nights ago, when Abbey had been smoothing out Jed's jacket and felt a bulge against her leg. "Sorry," he'd mumbled, embarrassed.

"So you see," Abbey said to Millie, "I'm like a horny teenager again with no relief!" She put her coffee cup down on her saucer with a clatter, clearly frustrated just talking about it.

"Abbey, haven't you ever….you know? Made time for yourself?"

"It's not just that I'm…eager. I miss _him_ , not just having sex. Pleasuring myself wouldn't make me feel any better."

Millie nodded in understanding. "Well, maybe we can put all that energy into making the reunion special."

"What did you have in mind?" Abbey asked.

"Let's go lingerie shopping."

"I love that idea! I'll have Lily coordinate with my Secret Service detail." Abbey was feeling better already.

 **To Be Continued...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

As Abbey and Millie browsed the racks of the lingerie shop looking for the right ensemble, Millie noted how trim Abbey was looking.

"Running on the treadmill relieves the sexual tension to a point," Abbey confessed. "It's something physical, anyway. Ooo how about this one?" she asked, taking a glittering gold pair of panties with nipple tassels off the rack.

"You're not serious, are you? You'd look like a stripper. Although, I guess that might be the point," Millie joked.

"God, no. I'd never wear that. I just wanted to see your reaction," Abbey laughed. No one except the sales clerk and the Secret Service was in the store, so Abbey felt comfortable being goofy, secure that no photos of the First Lady holding up sexy lingerie would end up in the tabloids.

"I'm not as gullible as I was when we were nineteen, and you blindfolded me and dared me to eat a goldfish. Turns out it was just canned peaches!" Millie complained, flicking Abbey's arm, a grin spread across her face revealing her fake consternation.

Abbey snickered, recalling how she'd duped her friend. "Speaking of the past, this one looks like it could have been worn by Farrah Fawcett. I could not pull that off, however" She pointed to a red one piece cut down to the navel.

"You could wear an oversized t-shirt, and Jed would jump you in a heartbeat. You're gorgeous, and it's been months!"

Abbey groaned, thinking about how long it had been since she'd been with Jed. It had been a humid DC summer evening in August, just days before the Rosslyn shooting. Neither of them had been able to fall asleep in the sweltering heat. They both tossed and turned for a half hour before Abbey kicked off the sheets, yelling, "Goddamnit! I'm roasting even in this thin tee shirt! I cannot get comfortable!"

That's all it had taken for Jed to feel turned on.

"Why don't you take it off?" he asked, his voice a low, sultry grumble.

"And just be topless?" Abbey asked, missing his sensual tone. "What about when the butler comes in in the morning to serve coffee and lay out the papers?!"

"Let him be jealous of what he can't have," Jed said with a twinkle in his eye. Abbey knew that look.

"You want sex now? It's 100 degrees outside and nearly as hot in here because of this damn old building with its poor ventilation."

"I'm just saying that we're already sweaty. We might as well have some fun."

Abbey got up and slowly peeled off her tee shirt. "You have a deal, sir."

Now in the lingerie store, she gulped in sadness, recalling that sweet, sweaty summer night. It was the middle of autumn now. The cool DC air and falling leaves mirrored her more serious, sadder demeanor since her husband's shooting. The world felt less safe. "Let's change the subject," she sighed. "I don't want to think about how long it's been."

Millie nodded seriously. She knew how difficult the last few months had been for Abbey. It was more than the lack of sex. She couldn't imagine how Abbey must have felt, dealing with her husband being shot.

"How are Zoey and Charlie doing?"

"Zoey's been trying to give Charlie space. But I can tell she's hurting that he's pushed her away," Abbey said, as she pulled a black chemise off the shelf.

"It has to be tough on both of them."

"It is. Zoey's never experienced tragedy or discrimination. She's lived the privileged life." Abbey lowered her voice to a whisper. "The worse thing she's ever gone through is when Jed was diagnosed." Abbey left off the acronym MS in case the store clerk was somewhere within hearing distance.

Millie held up a baby doll top in midnight blue, and Abbey nodded, so it went in the pile draped over her arm. "Do you think she can still handle the racism that comes with dating Charlie?"

Abbey stopped sorting through the racks and rubbed her temples for a moment. "That's what she has to figure out."

"Where do you and Jed stand on the issue of them continuing to date?"

"We're scared. But she told us that she loves him," Abbey said with a hint of sadness. She was thrilled that her baby girl was in love. But she was sad that Zoey was grown up now and scared of all the complications that came from being in love with an African American man.

—-

The First Lady ended up with several good options, so the women headed to the dressing room to try them on.

"You should have gotten some things to try on, Mil. It might change your dating luck." Her friend had been divorced for two years, and she hadn't dated anyone since.

"Right," Millie responded, rolling her eyes. "Like I even have time to date with how hard your husband works me," she added, teasingly.

"I just want you to be happy," Abbey said, turning away from Millie to remove her clothing.

"I know," Millie said, handing Abbey the purple and black lace teddy. "But honestly, I'm pretty content right now. Being Surgeon General is exciting. I have my work. I have my kids. That's enough for right now."

"But what about when Jed's term is over? What about in fifteen years, when you want to retire?" Abbey asked, fastening the attached garters on the teddy.

"Ab, it's fine. I've never been that great at marriage, anyway. I like the freedom of being on my own."

Abbey turned around to face Millie. "What do you think?"

"I'm not a big fan of purple, but it looks pretty good on you. Although, it gaps a little on the sides."

"Yeah, I don't know. Jed usually likes red or black. It doesn't show a lot of cleavage, either, which he might not like," Abbey giggled.

"I'll file that under things I didn't need to know about the President of the United States," Millie kidded.

Abbey laughed, but in her mind she could not wait for her and Jed's reunion.

 **To Be Continued….**


End file.
